The Ouroboros Disk, Part One
by topazchild
Summary: Merlin can do little to help when Morgause uses a 'glamour' to lure Arthur into a potentially deadly confrontation.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.**

**Please read and review. Thanks. **

The Ouroboros Disk, part one

If the tavern owner in Tarquin had not been busy assisting at the bar of his establishment, he would have told Gwaine that two of his friends had been asking after him earlier. The man had seen both of them with Gwaine before, so he had felt comfortable unlocking the rakish man's room and letting them in. Which explains why Gwaine was totally unprepared to enter his room sometime after midnight to find the two of them asleep, one on the narrow bed and the other on the rug beside it.

Although Gwaine had not been expecting the late night visit, he knew immediately who they were. He stood for a moment smiling and bemused, wondering what misadventure the pair of them were involved in. Though he had made little noise, some warrior's instinct woke Arthur, and the blonde rolled up off his stomach and, slamming his back against the headboard, had brought his right hand up clutching a dagger.

"Whoa, mate. You're the intruder here, not me," Gwaine said, with an attempt at humor.

"Gwaine," Arthur murmured to himself. He lowered the dagger and waited for his heart rate to steady.

"Little jumpy, aren't we?"

"Shhh, don't wake Merlin. He's not been - uh - he's not been himself."

"He's hurt?" Gwaine asked, in some concern.

"Not exactly."

"How can he be not exactly hurt?"

"I'll explain in the morning. It's a little complicated."

Gwaine was on the point of asking sarcastically where he was supposed to sleep when Merlin, awakened by their voices, sat up hurriedly and, seeing a third person in the room, cowered back against the side of the bed. "What's going on? Who is this?" he muttered, uneasily.

The prince leaned over and gripped his servant's shoulder reassuringly. "It's all right, Merlin. He's a friend. We're in his room."

_What the hell? _Gwaine thought. There was more than enough moonlight spilling into the room for his dark-haired friend to have recognized him. He looked at the prince sitting back up in bed for an explanation.

The blonde sighed. "Merlin has lost his memory."

Two and a Half Weeks Earlier

Morgause reflected later with a kind of amazement that she had nearly refused to see them. A small contingent of villagers, three men and two women, all in their middle-years, had come to her and begged for a private audience. Two things stopped her from refusing outright: one was a mingled sense of curiosity and boredom, and the other was the location of the village itself. It lay on the outer edge of Cenred's kingdom, on land that had been fought over by Cenred and King Uther in the past. For this reason she made a big show of concern and interest in their petition.

"My lady," began the woman acting as spokesperson, "please accept this gift as a token of our gratitude." She handed the woman a folded afghan and curtsied deeply. The blonde sorceress hid her impatience as she took it from the woman and unfolded it. To her surprise the afghan was soft and beautifully woven. She ran her hand partly down its length. Someone in their village was greatly skilled in the weaving arts. Morgause thanked them with real sincerity.

The villagers exchanged looks of satisfaction and dawning hope. Their gift had been accepted. This all boded well.

"Now to business," the sorceress said, "what is your purpose in wishing to consult with me?"

"My lady," the woman said, "our village has been plagued by a large serpent that kills and eats our livestock."

"It threatens our people," one of the men said, stepping closer and interrupting. "Our children must be kept close, inside the village or even inside our cottages."

"It attacks mostly at night," the woman continued.

"This creature - you have seen it?" Morgause asked.

"Yes, yes," the villagers replied, nodding their heads. "Several of us have seen it."

Morgause was silent for a few moments, thinking. There had been rumors of a huge serpent in that area years ago. King Cenred had even sent his men to investigate. Nothing had been found, and the rumors had eventually died out.

"I will need time to study this and consult my sources," Morgause said. "Stay here tonight in King Cenred's castle. We have rooms for you."

The village elders exchanged glances. "We can do that. Yes," one of the men replied. "Thank you, my lady."

While a servant showed the villagers to their rooms for the night, Morgause left and a few moments later was climbing up a spiral staircase to a room in the top of a tower. She kept the door sealed by enchantment to keep out everyone from Cenred down to the lowliest servant. There was a mirror in the room which she kept covered with a fringed velvet cloth.

"_Bene l__æg__ gesweorc_." The sorceress removed the cloth and waited while purple smoke swirled within the frame. A few moments later a woman's face appeared in the mirror.

"Morgause! Why have you summoned me?" the woman asked, not seeming to be pleased at all with being disturbed. In appearance, she looked to be somewhere in her forties, her medium brown hair streaked with gray, her eyes dark and intense.

"Greetings, Mirror," the blonde sorceress said. "I have been told there is a large serpent that threatens the village of Goedwig. The villager elders have come to me for help. The creature, they say, eats their livestock and threatens their children. A few years ago, King Cenred received reports of this creature, and he sent men to slay it. These men could find no sign of it. I need you to tell me if this serpent actually exists and how it can be destroyed."

In answer, the purple smoke swirled again and when it cleared the woman's face was gone. In its place was a huge snake, as large as an anaconda. Morgause studied the image. It would seem the serpent existed after all. The image vanished in a swirl of smoke to be replaced by the woman's face again.

"I must warn you, Morgause. This is a creature of the Old Religion and can only be destroyed by powerful magic. No mortal man can slay it."

"So," the sorceress said, "If a man were to attempt to slay it, the man would be killed?"

"Yes," said the woman, annoyed. "I think I just said that. Or implied that."

"Just wanted to clarify," Morgause said, with a little smile.

The Following Morning

Morgause once again met with the villagers. "I have been told by my sources that the serpent that plagues your village is a creature of the Old Religion. Do not attempt to destroy it yourselves. You will fail. I know of a great warrior, and I will tell him of your trouble."

"Thank you, gracious lady," one of the men said. All of them joined in thanking her profusely with little bows and curtsies.

"Go back to your village," Morgause told them in parting. "Keep your children close for a little while longer."

**a/n: This story contains a number of original characters from my previous stories.**

**Spell: Summon the mist.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Merlin finished taking Arthur's armor off. The blonde stripped off the sweat-stained shirt he was wearing underneath and dropped it on the floor. His servant started to pick it up when he noticed the necklace the prince was wearing. It was not one that he was familiar with.

"You didn't have this on when I dressed you this morning." Merlin placed the dangling disk in the palm of his hand. Etched in its center was a phrase written in Greek: _o__û__po__ßó__po__g__ôyig__. _

Encircling the whole was a serpent swallowing its own tail running along the outer rim. The prince watched with cerulean blue eyes as his servant examined it.

"Where did this come from, Arthur?" he asked, looking up.

The blonde took the necklace out of his servant's hand. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"I'm trying to keep you safe. I need to know when people give you things," Merlin said, insistently.

"We've had this discussion before. I don't need a bodyguard."

"Please, Arthur."

The blonde glared at him for a moment then relented. "Oh, all right. A girl gave it to me."

"What girl?"

The blonde gave an exasperated sigh but answered anyway. "You know sometimes when the knights and I return from patrol, people are waiting and they give me things. Flowers mostly, sometimes trinkets."

"I know," Merlin said, smiling, "but, Arthur, this isn't a trinket." He hesitated. "May I please show it to Gaius?"

The prince shrugged. "Go ahead. Just make sure you return it. I rather fancy it."

~§ª~

To say Gaius was intrigued by the necklace was an understatement. The physician had hurriedly dragged both Merlin and the disk to the castle library to consult with Geoffrey of Monmouth, pouring through several thick tomes and comparing notes. The dark-haired young man sat at a long table watching the pair of them with some amusement. Occasionally, the two older men would address a remark to him.

"Merlin," Gaius said, "this is known as the Ouroboros Disk." His fingers traced the serpent encircling the disk. To Geoffrey: "Tell Merlin about the inscription, Geoffrey."

"Certainly. As you are both probably aware, the writing is Greek: _o__ûpoßópog__ôyig_. It's a reference to the 'tail devouring snake.' The Ouroboros sigil, much like the firebird, first emerged in ancient Egypt but spread to different cultures - Norse and Hindi to name two."

"It symbolizes the cyclic nature of the universe, Merlin," Gaius said, "Creation out of destruction. Life out of Death."

"Yes," Merlin said, impatiently, "but will it harm Arthur?"

Gaius and Geoffrey exchanged looks. "The exact opposite, I would think," Gaius said.

The writer/historian nodded in agreement. "Just as the snake represents reincarnation and rejuvenation through its ability to shed its skin, the Ouroboros has the ability to regenerate."

"Regenerate?" Merlin asked. He looked from one to the other.

Gaius nodded. "Restore to health, I suppose. At the very least, it will not harm the prince." Pause. "Someone wants to keep him safe as badly as we do."

~§ª~

_If this council meeting gets any more monotonous_, Lord Torr thought, _we're all going to fall asleep_. The current speaker was droning on and on about some crucial stone wall that was crumbling and in immediate need of repair. Or was it someone's cows trampling someone else's cornfield? _Let's face it_, he told himself, he had zoned out some time ago.

The noble was saved from death by boredom when Prince Arthur's dark-haired servant entered the room. Lionel leaned back in his chair, watching his approach, with a lazy smile on his face. He glanced over at the prince who had looked up toward the door when his servant had entered. Some of the tension seemed to leave his body.

Merlin intercepted a servant carrying a decanter of wine toward the table and with a smile and a slight tug took it from her, leaving her, Lord Torr thought, looking a bit nonplussed. Continuing on to the table, Merlin stopped beside the prince, and whether by accident or design, blocked the king's view of his son. The young man set the decanter on the table and tilted Arthur's goblet. It was 2/3 full. Arthur glanced up at his servant curiously. For just a few seconds, Lord Torr felt a chill go down his spine. What would King Uther think if he knew that someone as powerful, as _lethal, _as Lionel knew Merlin to be, was so jaw-droppingly close to his son?

Merlin reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a disk or medallion of some kind. It appeared to have writing in the center of it and possibly a snake or serpent running around the edge - a talisman of some sort the noble supposed. The usually clumsy servant deftly slipped the chain around the prince's neck in one smooth motion - Lionel could have sworn there was a flash of light - and hastily tucked it inside Arthur's tunic. There was little or no reaction from the young royal. Obviously he was familiar with the object and knew what it was. Lord Torr looked toward the king who was not attending. It made the noble wonder what else the king failed to notice happening right under his nose.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Next Day

Morgana smiled at the woman who was telling the king of the trouble plaguing her village. She knew very well that the woman was actually Morgause, her sister having used a 'glamour' to disguise herself as one of the villagers. When Morgause had told her earlier about the serpent, both women had had the same thought - what a perfect opportunity to rid themselves of Arthur.

King Uther, having heard the woman's tale of woe, turned to his son seated on his right. "Arthur, take Sir Leon and the knights, and destroy the serpent for these people."

"Of course, father." The prince smiled with good-natured confidence.

Morgana and her sister exchanged satisfied smiles. Arthur was as good as dead.

A Few Days Later

The massive serpent moved with little sound other than the occasional rustle of leaves through the large oak, carefully distributing its 400 pounds over several thick branches. It was nearly twenty seven feet in length, the approximate size of a New World anaconda, a dull green in color with black and yellow markings. Coiling its body around a branch to steady itself, the creature paused for a moment, flicking out its forked tongue, picking up scents from the surrounding forest.

Vibrations moved up the trunk of the tree from the earth. The serpent could feel the approach of riders cantering down the road.

Previous Night

_Emrys. _The warlock drifted up through the layers of sleep and opened his eyes to near darkness. He propped himself up on one elbow and cautiously looked around the campsite. The blonde-haired prince was sleeping a few feet away from him, all but one of the knights sleeping nearby. Percival was on sentry duty.

_Emrys. _The young man cautiously got to his feet. He recognized the voice. It was not the druids who wished to speak to him nor was it Kilgharrah. It was Brigid. The triple goddess.

Merlin moved as quietly as he could manage so as not to wake the prince, nodding to Percival on his way out of camp. A half-kilometer away, the tall, flaming-haired goddess was standing under a rowan tree, waiting. "Greetings, Lady," he said, with a polite bow. "You wished to speak with me?"

"Greetings yourself," she replied, smiling, "and yes, I do. I bring you both gifts and a warning. Hold out your hand." She held her hand under his, and he felt warmth at her touch and for a fleeting moment a great happiness and contentment filled him. She poured small smooth pebbles into the palm of his hand and closed his fingers over them. He felt bereft when contact between them was broken.

_Oh, good_, Merlin thought, looking down, _rocks_, forgetting for a few seconds that she could read his thoughts. He looked up quickly, fearing he had offended her.

She was laughing at him. "You will need these 'rocks.'" He felt her murmur a spell in his mind. _Goleuo ein ffordd yn y tywyllwch. _

"Thank you, Lady."

She was looking beyond him, her gaze unfocused, and did not immediately respond. For a few moments, she stood motionless, no longer heeding him. "Prince Arthur has followed you," she murmured.

The warlock turned his head and, using his mind's eye, saw his friend some distance off moving between the trees. "Emrys, take these coins. You will need them to pay your passage." She pressed several Greek drachma into the palm of his hand.

_Passage where? _Merlin wondered. "And the warning?"

"Do not drink from the river of the Underworld."

The dark-haired man looked up at her with a puzzled look in his blue eyes. What she said made no sense. At all. "What?" he asked.

"Merlin," Arthur said, brushing against him as he joined the two of them. "Lady," the prince said politely, acknowledging her presence.

"Prince Arthur," the Celtic goddess said, smiling.

"I don't understand," Merlin said, glancing at the prince and continuing the previous conversation, "Arthur intends to slay a serpent. It has been menacing the village of Goedwig. What does that have to do with a river in the Underworld?"

"The wyrm enters this realm of existence through a portal. Once it has sated its appetite, it returns to the nether world," she explained.

"I will kill it in this world then," Arthur said, entering the conversation _in medias res. _

"It can't be slain in this - " Her voice tapered off, and she looked at the prince with increased interest. "You are wearing an amulet? One with great power?" She glanced at the warlock. "Possibly given to you by your friend here?"

Arthur's hand moved up to where the disk lay under his chain mail. Merlin, following his gesture, answered for him. "This time it was not from me, Lady. Sometimes the townspeople are waiting when Arthur and the knights return from patrol - "

"Show it to me," she said sharply, interrupting him. "I wish to see it now."

The blonde, with some assistance from his servant, pulled it free from under his tunic and the chain mail. The flaming-haired goddess reached for it and turned the medallion over in her palm. "The Ouroboros Disk!" she said, studying it in amazement. "She parted with this?" She looked up at the prince. "You are better protected than even I knew." She reached up and threaded her fingers through the long hair on his forehead. "Take Emrys with you, but don't let him drink from the river that flows through the Underworld," she said, repeating her earlier advice to Merlin.

The warlock personally thought the advice unnecessary.

"Your knights are coming, Arthur," the goddess said, with a small smile, vanishing from view. The spot where she had been standing was covered with shamrocks and small flowers.

**Spell: Light our way in the darkness.**


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter Four

Arthur had explained to Sir Leon in the morning about the serpent retreating back into the Underworld after its kills. He had also told him of his intention to follow it through the portal. Only Merlin would be accompanying him. The knights would be remaining here. Leon attempted to protest only to be told firmly that the matter was not open for discussion.

Leon had looked into the blue eyes of Merlin, standing slightly behind the prince. _Someday Arthur was going to get that boy killed. _He looked back at Arthur. Oddly, the blonde knew what he was thinking. "He'll be all right."

Several Hours Later

When the heavy serpent dropped from the trees above onto the knights passing beneath, the scene was one of chaos and confusion. Neither Arthur, who was several lengths ahead, or Merlin, bringing up the rear, was caught in the melée. The knights who were uninjured, or only slightly so, were attempting to pull their fellow knights free from the tangle of horses and fallen men. The panicked horses were kicking wildly. Both Sir Leon and the prince were screaming orders and admonitions.

Percival, shaken up but not badly injured, had grabbed his sword and chopped downward at the creature. He felt the jarring all up and down his arm. He was startled into crying out. The scales were impenetrable.

"Percival! Listen to me!" Arthur yelled at him, "You can't kill it. Only I can kill it."

The knight looked back at him over the confused sprawl. _Okay, that was arrogant even for Arthur. _

The serpent moved at its own speed off the fallen men, resisting their best efforts to hurry it. Moments later the head and then the body slowly disappeared through some invisible opening into the netherworld. Arthur followed as closely as he dared. "Merlin! Hurry before it closes!"

The prince reached behind and grabbed his servant by the wrist. He gave one last order over his shoulder. "Sir Leon! Get the injured knights to Gaius!" Then he stepped through the portal, pulling Merlin with him, and the pair of them vanished from view.

The two young men tumbled out of the portal into a strange land of perpetual twilight and eerie dark shapes, blurred and unidentifiable. Arthur reached out a hand and pressed against Merlin's chest. "Be still. Listen," he said.

There was a sound of water flowing not far off and a distant screeching that added to their unease. Neither of them could hear birds singing or the croaking of frogs despite being in proximity to a river. Then came the sound that Arthur was waiting for - the sliding, slithering sound of something large moving along the ground. The blonde made some confusing hand signals which Merlin for the most part ignored.

As their eyesight adjusted to the semi-gloom, the two could make out boulders and craggy cliffs and scrub brush. "This way, Merlin," the prince said, in a low whisper, grabbing at the sleeve of his jacket.

"Wait, Arthur." The warlock reached into one of his pockets and pulled out some of the small stones that the Celtic goddess had given them. He dropped several near the portal. _Goleuo ein ffordd yn y tywyllwch. _The palest of blue light radiated from the stones.

"Let's go before the serpent gets into the water," the prince murmured in an urgent undertone. Merlin tripped along after the blonde, scattering a few more pebbles along the way as the pair of them trailed along the bank. The firm ground soon gave way to a marshy area skirting the river, and they stopped, uncertain. Something slid into the water with a plopping sound a little ways ahead, and they could see the serpent's length moving through the cattails and slithering through tiny aquatic plants, much like duckweed.

"Damn it!" Arthur swore, "It's already in the water." The prince started to rush toward the water's edge, but the warlock grabbed his arm with both hands.

"No! Arthur!"

"I wasn't going to _swim_ after it, Merlin," the blonde said, exasperated. "There must be a ferry crossing along here somewhere. Brigid gave us the drachma."

After a slight detour to avoid the unstable area of the marsh, the two found themselves approaching a dilapidated wooden pier. A ferryman stood there awaiting his next fare. He was short in stature with large ears and a prominent nose; the clothes he wore were shabby and torn. He was alarmed when they asked for passage across the river and at first vehemently refused to convey them.

"You should not have come here," the man admonished them. "Only the dead are permitted to cross."

"I am the son of the king of Camelot," Arthur said, "and the serpent that I hunt enters my father's realm through a portal. While in my world, it attacks and slays livestock belonging to villagers and threatens their children." The ferryman hesitated. "We seek temporary admittance only," the prince continued, pressing his case. "After which, we will leave."

"We have drachma to pay our way," Merlin said practically, pulling two of the coins from his pocket.

"I will permit this," the man said, "but you will leave immediately afterwards. Otherwise you will remain here forever."

The dark-haired man hurriedly pressed two of the coins into the man's palm, and the prince and his servant stepped into the narrow boat with alacrity before the man could change his mind.

As Arthur and his servant rode in the small narrow boat, they could see the creature's head and upper body bobbing above the water and catch occasional glimpses of the rest of its undulating form. It was swimming away from them toward the opposite shore. Merlin had an unsettling thought. What if the serpent turned and attacked the boat? They would be in the water with Arthur unable to effectively use his sword. He found the idea terrifying. _Don't be such a girl's petticoat_, he told himself, the voice in his head sounding suspiciously like Arthur's. _You have magic. _


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter Five

The creature emerged from the opaque waters slightly downstream from the pier and slithered up the bank. Arthur vaulted from the boat as soon as the ferryman brought it alongside the wooden pier. "Wait!" the boatman hollered after him, "there is something you should know." The prince was so focused on pursuit that the words barely registered.

Merlin stepped out of the boat with the intention of running after the prince when the man grabbed his arm. The dark haired man turned impatiently. "Listen! I'm trying to help you," the ferryman said. "Tell your friend that the wyrm first immobilizes its intended victim by injecting it with a paralyzing substance. The effect is temporary, lasting only a few minutes, but long enough for the serpent to crush the life out of its prey."

"Thank you." Merlin nodded his head in gratitude then took off running downstream after Arthur. He slowed when he heard screeching noises from above and felt a shadow move over him. He looked up. _Wyvern_, he thought in alarm, _or a near relation_. There were three of them, circling like vultures. _Oh good_, Merlin thought, sarcastically, _we needed more stuff to worry about. _

When the warlock sought out the prince again, he found that the serpent was no longer trying to elude them but instead had whipped around, waiting, venom dripping from its open jaws, its upper body undulating. The blonde had his sword in his hand and swung at the creature, cutting into its thick scales.

"Arthur!"

"Stay back, Merlin!"

The effect of the injury was galvanizing. The wyrm rapidly uncoiled its body in fury, knocking the prince to the ground and flinging his servant into the water nearby.

"Don't swallow any of the water, Merlin!" The blonde struggled to get up but the serpent had moved across his body, its massive weight pinning him to the ground. His fingers loosened on his sword, his right arm trapped under one of the coils. He tried desperately to shove the creature off his chest with his left hand and failed. Its head moved to strike Arthur in the neck, vulnerable above the chain mail. The paralyzing venom dripped from its long sharp fangs. There was a flash of silver light and a faint hum as the Ouroboros Disk activated. The serpent's large head snapped back in alarm, and the heavy coils of its body moved slowly off the prince. Freed from the crushing weight, Arthur sucked air into his lungs and sprang to his feet, grabbing his sword as he did so. Adrenalin surged through his veins, and he swung furiously at the serpent, slicing it in two. Blood spurted upward in a fountain from the severed parts, showering the prince and soaking into the ground.

Arthur's primal scream of blood lust was drowned out by three screeching wyvern diving toward him in a spiraling plunge. He dropped to the ground faster than thought as the first wyvern grabbed one of the severed halves and flew off with its prize. The second and third creatures fought over the remaining half, their screeching and shrill screams unnerving and deafening at close range. So far they ignored the prince lying nearby, his hands covering his head in a vain effort to drown out the sound. Terror moved through him as he realized he had no defense against them. If either one of them attacked him, he was dead.

Time seemed to go by in slow motion. Arthur had no idea how long he lay there on his belly, his fingers digging into the lifeless soil, when suddenly he had a change in fortune. The two wyvern flew higher into the air as they fought with each other. Arthur took advantage of the brief respite to struggle heavily to his feet, and clasping the sword in his hand, he hacked the remaining piece in two. He moved a little ways off and flattened himself again to the ground as the ferocious pair dove back down and seized the now separated carcass.

The prince lay still for a while after the pair flew off. He could feel the adrenalin receding and reaction settling in, and he felt a little nauseated. As he lay there he listened. He could no longer hear the screeching sound. Only the sound of rushing water. The river. _Merlin_.


	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter Six

Merlin lay on the bank of the River Lethe sputtering and coughing up water. He was soaked through and water dripped from his dark hair. Arthur walked down and sat beside him, relieved to see that he was no longer in the river. He reached over and pulled at his arm turning him. "Are you all right?" the blonde asked.

Merlin shook off his arm then pulled himself into a sitting position. He cast a bewildered look at his surroundings then looked suspiciously at Arthur. "Keep your hands to yourself, and who are you anyway?"

_Okay, this isn't good_, Arthur thought. "How much of the river water did you swallow, Merlin?"

"Who's Merlin?"

"You are. And I'm Arthur Pendragon. I'm a prince and you're my servant."

The dark-haired man gave him a dubious look wondering whether to believe him. "I'm your servant?"

"Yes." The prince started to add that he wasn't a very good one then decided it probably wasn't the time.

The warlock looked uneasily around the marshy area, noticing the gloomy half-light. "What are we doing here? And where is _here_ exactly?"

"You don't remember coming here?" the prince asked. His servant shook his head no. "We're in the Underworld. We came here through a portal on Midgard. The triple goddess gave you some pebbles that would light our way back - " The blonde snapped his mouth shut at the mulish expression on Merlin's face. It was too much information all at once. Arthur realized his mistake almost immediately.

"Very funny," Merlin said, scrambling to his feet and ineffectually brushing at his wet clothing. "That was all just a pack of lies, wasn't it? Stay away from me."

_Oh, to hell with it_, Arthur thought, getting to his feet in turn. He rushed his raven-haired servant, grabbing him under his arms, and forcing him backward toward the pier upstream.

Merlin fought with him the whole way, desperate to break his iron grip. "Let me go, whoever the _hell_ you think you are!"

"I'm Prince Arthur, _Mer_lin," he said, getting in his face, "and I can hardly wait until you get your memory back."

"You're delusional, and you're a prat."

The blonde was surprised enough by the response that he came to an abrupt halt and nearly turned loose. He looked into his servant's furious blue eyes. "Merlin, are you starting to remember?" he asked in an entirely different tone.

Merlin in turn was diverted enough by the question that he stopped struggling for the moment. "No." His eyes fell on the ground. He could see a handful of luminescent stones. "Well, that part wasn't a lie," he said.

Arthur followed his gaze downward. "None of it was, Merlin. It was all the truth." Pause. "I need you to trust me." He turned loose.

"Okay," Merlin said, slowly. "Milord."

"You call me Arthur."

"Arthur."

"Yes. We need to get back across the river. I don't suppose you still have the remaining two drachma?" He started to reach for a pocket in Merlin's damp jacket only to have the young man flinch backwards.

"It's all right. It's all right," the prince said, soothingly, in a tone he'd use to gentle a horse. "I just want to see if you have the coins we need to pay our fare." He found only one drachma. He sighed, chagrined. This was all becoming too much. There were no knights to back him up. His own servant was treating him like a stranger. He wished they were out of this place and home. He briefly covered his face with his hands then pulled at the ends of his hair in frustration. To his surprise he felt Merlin pat him encouragingly on the shoulder.

"Talk to the ferryman, Arthur. Tell him what happened."

"Okay." It was worth a shot.

A few moments later, Arthur pressed the remaining öpaxµñ into the man's palm. "We had another coin, but my servant was thrown into the river by the Ouroboros serpent, and now it's probably at the bottom of the river," the blonde prince explained, uncharacteristically nervous.

Unexpectedly, the ferryman waved them both into his narrow boat. "Get in. The coin can be retrieved later."

_How?_ Arthur wondered, glancing at the uninvitingly murky waters, but he wasn't foolish enough to voice the thought. To his further relief, Merlin had gotten on the boat without comment and sat down. When they got back, he would take his friend to Gaius, and Gaius would fix everything like he always did. Maybe everything was starting to go right at last.

The prince was mistaken.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Aydric was the younger of two sons of a noble possessing a modest fortune, all of which was entailed to his brother. As the younger, he faced limited prospects in life and knew early on he'd have to make his own way, but he was crafty and shrewd and burdened with few scruples. He finally settled on a calling that was a perfect fit for him - the mastermind for a band of smugglers, concealing his true identity so cleverly as to allow him to live a double life. To most people, he was the forty-something, respectable, married son of the Duke of Atherton. They saw an affable family man and not the one in possession of a violent temper.

Aydric's father was not a particularly important figure at court and, as such, was invited only to the larger court functions. The duke insisted that his older son, Jarrett, accompany him to these events, but rarely demanded that the younger join them as well, a state of affairs which suited Aydric's purposes. Due to the rather perilous career path he'd chosen, the smuggler tried to keep as low a profile as possible. All of this contributed to the fact that Aydric had exchanged fewer than a dozen words with the crown prince nor had he ever sat next to him at table.

It was much later that Aydric made the judgment call that a blindfolded prince would almost certainly fail to recognize his voice, and it would not be necessary to kill him - and the dark-haired servant he had with him.

~§~

The location of the portal had shifted slightly in time and space. Arthur and Merlin returned a day later and several kilometers away from their original location which was unfortunate because instead of the knights waiting for them, they landed in the middle of a smugglers' camp. Aydric was not there when they arrived. He had walked a short distance away for a private confab accompanied by his second-in-command, a rough-looking man by the name of Brinley. Aydric's first awareness of his royal intruder came when one of his men ran up to tell him that Prince Arthur and a servant had suddenly appeared in their camp seemingly from out of nowhere.

"What do you want us to do with them?"

The noble's son gaped. "You have taken the prince's weapons?" The whole kingdom knew Arthur was deadly with a sword. The man nodded. "Where are his knights?" Aydric asked sharply.

"Not with him. He was alone except for the one servant."

Nothing about this sounded good. If he was forced to kill the prince, it would be like kicking over a hornet's nest. King Uther would send his men to the ends of the earth to find his son's assassins.

"Neither of them have seen your face, Aydric," Brinley pointed out. "We could break camp and leave the two of them here tied up. They would be without horses."

Aydric nodded. That made sense. He stood there thinking as the other two men waited. He was ruthless and calculating, but he was also practical. If it was not necessary to kill the royal, he would not do so. He took a deep breath. "Here's what I want you to do. If the prince is wearing chain mail, have the men take it off of him. Tie their hands in back then blindfold both of them. Tell the prince that if either he or his servant manage to get the blindfold off, we will kill them. After you've done this, come and get me."

Aydric walked into camp a scant twenty minutes later passing first by the servant. His men had moved him some distance from the royal. He glanced down at him. It was the dark-haired one as he had surmised, the prince's personal servant, and he lay slumped on the ground barely conscious. There was a red mark on the side of his face and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Aydric glanced up at one of his men who shrugged. "He struggled when we tried to tie his hands."

Arthur was still, propped awkwardly against a tree, listening. He knew one of them had hit his servant earlier. He had heard the sound and heard Merlin cry out, the sound cut off abruptly. _Someone would be paying for that later. _He felt someone hunker down beside him. The man touched his arm and his upper body, looking at the blood that had seeped through the chain mail and onto the tunic he wore beneath.

Aydric looked up at Brinley then gestured meaningfully at the blood. Brinley nodded in understanding, then spoke gruffly to the blonde. "Are you injured, your highness?"

"No." _That's interesting_, thought Arthur. The man touching him was not the man speaking to him. Did he know the first man?

"None of this blood is yours?" Brinley asked.

"Very little, if any," the prince said, impatiently. "Let us go _now_, and maybe my father won't hang the lot of you."

"Whose blood is it then?" Brinley persisted, ignoring the prince's threat.

After a few seconds of silence, Arthur grudgingly answered. "I killed the serpent that was menacing a village on my father's lands." He didn't bother mentioning that it was disputed land, and King Cenred also lay claim to it.

"What is the name of this village?" The voice came from someone who had previously been standing around in silence.

"Goedwig." There was a sharp intake of breath from several of the men. They knew of this serpent. It was said that it could not be slain by an ordinary sword. Several of them looked down in wonder at the prince. How had he managed to do what so many others had failed at?

"Thank you, your highness," another man said with deep gratitude. He had family in Goedwig. He moved forward toward the prince, then hastily stepped back at a furious glare from Aydric.

The noble's son had a murderously short temper, and he was rapidly losing control of it. He shoved Arthur forcibly onto his side then stood up. The prince was dangerous, and Aydric was rethinking his decision to let him go.


	8. Chapter 8

**Please read and review. Thank you. **

Chapter Eight

Resentment burned in Brinley's chest. It was just like Aydric not to want to get his hands dirty. "Take them out deep in the forest where no one will ever find them and kill them. I want them dead before I get back," Aydric had told him. Then the man had left to resume his privileged life as the second son of the Duke of Atherton.

Brinley was still seething when he picked three men seemingly at random to help him take the two captives into the forest. Someone who was paying attention might have noticed that the three men he chose were all from the village of Goedwig, including the one who had angered Aydric by expressing gratitude toward the prince.

Arthur stumbled blindly along, tripping over roots and fallen branches, whether from accident or as a delaying tactic wasn't clear. He was saved from falling several times by the men on either side of him. Merlin fell also, once crying out as he fell hard onto his belly.

"Merlin!" The prince stopped abruptly, trying to pull away from the men holding him. "Let him go! He can't hurt you." He waited for one of them to strike him, but surprisingly the blow never fell. His request was met with silence. Arthur was puzzled. There was something going on here that he didn't understand. Some undercurrent. Thinking rapidly, the blonde considered and rejected several possible ways out of their current predicament. The gods alone knew where Sir Leon and his knights were. He kept coming back to Merlin. Had his servant forgotten he had magic?

"Let me speak to my servant alone before you - "

"No," Brinley said, brusquely, interrupting him.

"Why not? We can't run," Arthur said. "Just give me a few minutes. Please."

"Not another word," Brinley said harshly.

Energy seeped from Arthur's body and his legs felt leaden, not from any physical exertion but from hopelessness and the thought that he had failed his friend.

After some time they came to an abrupt halt. "This is far enough," Brinley told his men. "I can take it from here. Go back to camp." He pulled a dagger from his belt.

The three men exchanged glances then looked unhappily at the prince. "Are you sure about this?" one of them ventured.

"Yes. Go."

Two of the men immediately left, but the third stood there silently until they were out of range.

"Well?" Brinley demanded.

"You're letting them go, aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?" Brinley said, evasively, tightly gripping the prince's arm with one hand, the dagger in the other.

"You know he'll kill you."

Arthur, first thinking the reference was to himself, started to say he would not, then realized they weren't talking about him at all. They were talking about the man who had ordered their deaths.

"He can try," Brinley said, through his teeth.

Arthur stood waiting apprehensively, barely daring to believe that this wasn't all just a cruel joke. Relief flooded through him when he felt the knife slice through the ropes binding his wrists. He started to reach up to remove the blindfold when Brinley grabbed his arm. "Stay still." To the other smuggler: "Go back to the campsite. Now."

A few moments later, Arthur tore off the blindfold in time to see Brinley move toward his servant with the knife. "I'll do it myself," the prince said, seizing the dagger and freeing his friend. He looked at Merlin's face, seeing the dried blood and the discolored skin. He picked up both his wrists in turn and inspected the rope burns. "You all right?" he asked in a gentle tone Brinley would not have supposed him capable of.

"I'm all right, Arthur."

The blonde turned and for the first time looked closely at the man who had freed them. His eyes traveled down to the sword and scabbard at the man's side. "Is that my sword?"

"Yes, I brought it to give to you. I'll be needing my dagger back," he said with a slight smile. The weapons were exchanged. "I can't give you any horses, I'm afraid. You've got a long walk ahead of you."

"Thanks to you, we're alive to take it." Both men looked around. There was some change in the atmosphere, a sudden chill. Brinley caught a whiff of something familiar - cinnamon, he thought, and some kind of flower. He turned a puzzled look toward Arthur. The prince sighed, not sure he was up to dealing with the girl right now.

The smuggler turned his head at the sound of light footsteps falling. Unbelievably, there was a girl walking toward them from between the trees. She seemed barely past her childhood. Her straight auburn hair was of a silky texture with gold streaks running through it, her brown eyes limpid and clear. She was dressed in a gown of cobalt blue, empire-waisted, with a long beige sash which wrapped around her torso and tied in front. Matching beige ribbons tied around her upper arms, the sleeves themselves falling long and loose nearly to the forest floor. A ruby-studded firebird dangled from a long silver chain around her neck. "Hello, Prince Arthur," the girl said.

"Mariana," the prince said, with a little nod of acknowledgement.

_They know each other_, the smuggler thought in shock. _Who is this girl? _He watched as she turned to the dark-haired servant, gently touching his cheek.

"Who did this to him?" she asked in a low voice. Arthur could hear the fury behind the words. Her eyes met Brinley's.

"No! Mariana, it wasn't him!" Arthur said, hastily. He wasn't going to repay the man's recent kindness by getting him killed by the goddess' daughter.

"You brought Em - Merlin through a portal into my world, and you didn't stay to say hello to my mother?" Mariana asked, in an annoyed tone. She kissed her fingertips as she spoke and touched Merlin's cheek. The bruises and the cut by his mouth healed. Brinley felt a frisson of fear ripple down his spine. There was something otherworldly and unnerving about the girl.

"When I was trying to slay the serpent, there was an accident. To Merlin." Arthur was grateful for the moment that his friend's recent dousing was serving some useful purpose. He had _no_ desire to meet the Goddess of the Underworld.

Mariana turned her brown eyes back to Merlin's blue ones then ran her creamy soft hands across his shoulders and down his arms, turning his hands palms up. She saw no obvious injury. "He seems unharmed. What happened?"

Arthur watched bemused. Under ordinary circumstances, Merlin was terrified of the girl. Now he was standing there smiling shyly at her, letting her touch him. "He was thrown into the River Lethe. He swallowed some of the water before I could get to him."

Tears welled up in the girl's brown eyes. "Arthur, I can't fix this." She pulled Merlin against her, hugging him, her cheek pressed against his.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"Mariana, can you stay with Merlin? I need to have a private conversation with this man."

"Of course, Prince Arthur," the girl said, agreeably. She slipped her hand into the dark-haired man's. Arthur stared. If Merlin had his memory back, he'd be having a massive panic attack about now.

The prince and the smuggler walked a short distance away, a wary look on the latter's face. "Why don't I save us both some time?" Brinley said, in response to the unasked question. "No, your highness."

"No?"

"No. I will not tell you his name."

"Why not?" Arthur replied. "If you're afraid of retaliation, I can promise you - I swear to you - that will not be a problem."

Brinley could well believe that. "Let's just say I have my own particular code of honor."

Arthur had no desire to try and force the man into talking. If it wasn't for him, he and his friend would be lying in this place, their life's blood soaking into the earth beneath them. "Will you answer me one question then?"

"Let's hear the question first," Brinley said, cautiously.

"All right. Is this man someone that I'd be acquainted with?"

"Well, I don't run in your circles," the smuggler said, wryly, "but I'd say so, yeah."

"A servant in the castle, perhaps?" the blonde said, guessing. He looked at Brinley's face, trying to read his expression. It was carefully neutral.

It wasn't until much later, after he'd thanked Persephone's daughter, reclaimed his servant and the pair of them had put several kilometers between themselves and this place, that Arthur stopped in his tracks. No, not a servant. On some instinctual level, he knew. The man was a noble.

Three Days Later

Gwaine had borrowed another blanket from the tavern owner, and with a considerable amount of grumbling, had spent what was left of the night on the floor. He was the first awake in the morning and getting up, noticed that his two unexpected guests were still deeply asleep. Morning sunlight spilled into the room, and Gwaine could see the dried blood stains on Arthur's shirt. _Damn, Arthur! What have you been tangling with? _

While his friends slept, Gwaine made inquiries about their horses at the nearby stable. There were none. The two had walked. Some distance apparently. He returned to the room where both were still soundly asleep. He sighed. He was going to have to part with one of his shirts. He pulled one out of a drawer and laid it in on the end of the bed.

Several hours later, Gwaine was sitting on a chair watching as Merlin assisted the prince in dressing. The dark-haired man seemed tense and anxious to please.

"Relax, Merlin," the rakish man said. "You're doing okay, and Arthur doesn't bite. Not usually."

The blonde gave him a look.

"So," Gwaine said, "fill me in. What happened? And why aren't Sir Leon and the knights with you?"

Arthur looked over at him, a haunted look in his cerulean blue eyes. "Gwaine, I can't do this right now. And Merlin and I need to eat. We're both half starved."

"Right." Gwaine sighed again. His friends were essentially stranded right now. They had no food, no money, and no horses. He would buy food for them, but he was low on funds himself. Maybe he could convince the stable owner to loan them two horses. After all, one of them was the crown prince. If all else failed, he would loan Arthur his horse and keep Merlin with him for a few days. Oh well, they would eat first then worry about the rest of it later.

If Gwaine had expected to be regaled with the story of their adventures over the noon meal, he was doomed to disappointment. The three of them had seated themselves at an out-of-the-way table in a corner of the ale room, and the prince and his servant had concentrated on eating, saying next to nothing the entire meal. Merlin had at first tried to wait on the prince, but Arthur had grabbed his arm and pulled him into a chair.

"You just saved our lives, Gwaine. Thanks," the blonde said, upon finishing his meal. The haunted look was less noticeable.

"If you're really grateful, you'll tell me what's been going on."

Arthur made a face. He didn't want to talk about any of it, but this man had just provided them with food and shelter. He compromised by giving an abridged version of the events of the previous few days. There were few patrons in the ale room at the moment, but the blonde spoke in lowered tones as a precautionary measure, causing Gwaine to move his chair in closer.

The prince told of the Ouroboros Disk, the serpent, the portal into the Underworld, Merlin's unexpected dousing in the River Lethe, their disastrous re-entry into the middle of a smugglers' camp, the man unseen who had ordered his men to kill them, and lastly, Persephone's daughter.

Nothing was spoken between them for several long minutes after that. Gwaine leaned back in his chair and stared at both of them. "This man who ordered your deaths," he asked, finally, "You think he might be from a noble family?"

"Yes, it's a good possibility. Someone I know. We were kept blindfolded, and he was careful not to speak in our presence."

Gwaine looked into Merlin's blue eyes for a moment then back at Arthur. "Let me help you find him," he said in a soft, deadly voice. "I want to do this."

"I may hold you to that, Gwaine."

Getting two horses without any money had proven to be easier than Gwaine had originally thought. Arthur had told the stable owner in his high-handed way that he was the prince, and his father, King Uther, would reward him handsomely for two of his finest horses. The horses themselves were not much to look at, but they were sound, and he was not in a position to quibble.

Arthur's original intent had been to take Merlin back to Gaius, but he had rethought that. With the memory loss, his servant was vulnerable right now, and he wanted him out of his father's murderous reach for the time being. He had some business to take care of, and he couldn't afford to be distracted.

~§~

The prince and his servant halted their horses within sight of Ealdor. "Your mother will be happy to see you, Merlin. Let her hug and kiss you. We can explain about the memory loss later." The raven-haired man didn't answer. Arthur glanced over at him. Several large tears were rolling down his face.

"No, no, _no!" _Arthur said, "Stop being such a girl. Hunith will take one look at you and know something's wrong."

Merlin sniffed and wiped his eyes with his fingers. "Please don't leave me here, Arthur. I'll try to do better."

"We've had this discussion umpteen times. I'm not punishing you. You've been doing a, uh, great job as my servant." Arthur stumbled a little over the words. "I have some business I have to take care of, and this is the safest place to leave you. I'll come back for you. I promise. You have my word as a knight."

"Okay," Merlin said, on a watery hiccup.

A few moments later, Arthur watched as Hunith hugged and kissed her son. Merlin did not pull away from her, but the prince could tell by the puzzled look on her face that she knew something was wrong. She looked over at him for an explanation.

"May I come in, Hunith?" the blonde said, with a heavy sigh. "There is something I need to tell you."

~§~

Arthur was several kilometers out of Ealdor when he heard a flurry of wings and saw the peregrine falcon dropping from a great height and diving toward him. Almost without thought, he raised his arm, and the raptor, with an impressive display of wingspan, made a precision landing on his gauntleted hand. "Hello, old friend," the prince said, with a smile. He supposed the falcon had guided the knights to him, but he guessed wrong.

A few moments later, the falcon flew off, and Gabriel rode into sight, leading his palomino stallion, Asterion.

"I'm not even going to ask how you got that animal out of the Camelot stables," Arthur told him.

"That's probably for the best," the elf replied, with a self-satisfied look.

The two halted while the blonde switched horses, happy to be back on the familiar stallion. The long-haired elf rode beside him for several hours. "You took Merlin to Ealdor?"

"Yes, he wasn't happy about it, but it was the safest place for him." Pause. "I have some business I need to take care of," the prince said, darkly.

"If you need any help - ," Gabriel began.

"Thanks," the blonde royal said. "I'll keep that in mind."

The elf pulled up his horse. "Your knights are coming, Arthur. This is where I leave you."

"Good-bye, Gabriel."


	10. Chapter 10

**a/n: The Cedric in this chapter is my original character from "Mountain Pass" and "Black Opal." He is not the show's character from 2.1. **

Chapter Ten

"Where's Merlin, Sire?" Sir Leon asked. He and the knights had ridden up moments earlier.

Arthur did not answer immediately, looking to make sure Elyan was with them. He was. Good. "I took him to his mother's," the prince replied, his tone indicating the topic was not open for discussion. Several of the knights exchanged looks.

"I succeeded in slaying the serpent," Arthur said, tired of talking about it. "If you'll attend my meeting with my father, you'll receive a more detailed accounting."

The knight did not look happy about being put off, but he nodded his head in acquiescence. "Yes, Sire."

"Casualty report?" Arthur asked, moving on.

"Nothing that won't heal," Leon said. "Sir Fletcher has a broken ankle which Gaius set, and Sir Kellon sprained his wrist and wrenched his shoulder. The rest of the injuries were relatively minor - scrapes, bruises, contusions."

The knights in turn looked the prince over. His chain mail was gone, and he was wearing a shirt which they were fairly sure wasn't his. The biggest surprise was the cream-colored stallion he was riding which Leon could have sworn was in the stables when they left Camelot.

"Uh, Sire, if I may - your horse, Asterion. How did you get him?" Leon asked.

"A friend brought him to me." The knights all waited for him to explain further, but the prince did not elaborate. "Elyan!" The blonde turned in his saddle to look over his shoulder. "Ride beside me."

Moments later, Elyan was riding next to Arthur. "Do you still keep in contact with Cedric?" the prince asked.

"No, but I can find him for you, Sire."

"How long?"

"Two, maybe three days," Elyan replied.

"Good. Find him. Arrange a meeting. Somewhere away from the citadel. My father doesn't need to know about this yet."

"Any preferences as to location, Sire?"

"Hmm, Tarquin, I think. Yes, the village of Tarquin," Arthur decided.

"Gwaine still staying there?" Elyan asked, with a little smile.

"Yes."

Three nights later in Tarquin

Arthur and Gwaine were seated at the same out-of-the-way table as before. The former was not dressed as a prince, but the stable owner frequently came in for drinks, so the tavern owner certainly knew who he was at this point. A rosy-cheeked barmaid had brought the two young men tankards of ale earlier, and they were kicked back idly watching the noise and commotion around them.

The outside door opened, and a large, powerfully built man with the beginnings of a scruffy beard entered. His eyes scoured the crowded room for them. Spotting them, he walked over and stood by their table. "Your highness," the man said, with a nod.

"Arthur. Just Arthur," the blonde said hastily, with a quick glance around. "Sit down."

"What can I do for you - Arthur?"

"First I need to fill in some background." The blonde told him of he and Merlin finding themselves in the middle of the smugglers' camp and the events following. He told him about the two of them narrowly escaping death because a man named Brinley disobeyed orders and let them go.

Cedric leaned back in his chair, studying the prince. He knew where this was going and what the blonde wanted.

"Their leader - you can find out this man's identity for me?" Arthur asked.

"I don't need to," Cedric said.

Gwaine looked up at that. "'Cause you already know."

"Yeah."

"Well?" the prince said, impatiently.

"His name is Aydric," Cedric said. "And he's the second son of - "

" - the Duke of Atherton," Arthur finished for him.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

"About that other matter," King Alined said, "the necklace was delivered to Prince Arthur as you requested."

"I know. I saw the girl give it to him," Blodwyn replied, referring to her visions. "Thank you."

"You're going to make me jealous, Blodwyn, giving jewelry to the Pendragon prince." Pause. "You're fond of him, aren't you?"

"Yes," Blodwyn said, smiling. _Let Alined think that that was all it was. _She knew the man very well, his strengths and his considerable weaknesses. If he had had an inkling of the value of the 'jewelry' she had given the young man, he would have kept it for himself.

The End

**a/n: Lord Torr/Lionel is from "Rising Sun" and "Hostage to Fortune." Brigid is from "Something Wicked" and Celtic mythology. Mariana is from "Rising Sun" and "Something Wicked." Gabriel is from "Starfall" and "Something Wicked." Cedric is from "Mountain Pass" and "Black Opal." Blodwyn is from "Starfall" and "No Stone Unturned." **


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